


Lips

by nursehelena



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Humour, M/M, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 19:02:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1237528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nursehelena/pseuds/nursehelena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skwisgaar's been laying it on pretty thick, since Toki turned of age.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lips

Fleshy pillows slid over a slowly melting ice treat, cheeks hollowing in order to pull as much as possible into Skwisgaar's mouth. Their usual paleness fell victim to a red tinge. No matter how often he mindlessly licked them, it refused to fade. His gaze traversed the kitchen table. "Dere ams more popscockles in de freezor, if you wanteds one."

Realizing he'd been staring, Toki redirected to his cereal. "No, I's okay."

"Dey's pretty good."

The sound of relented suction drew Toki back. He didn't have the strength to completely ignore the Swede. . .as Skwisgaar was well aware. It was all part of this unspoken game they played; ever since Toki turned eighteen, he could  _swear_  that a glint of intent existed in the blond's eye. All such incidents on their own meant nothing, but this happened far too frequently to be accidents. Even now, with his attention verified, Skwisgaar subtly emphasized his behaviour. The popsicle profiled against the inside of his cheek and, once it shrunk enough, the Swede's lips closed over the bottom before riding back.

"Quit watchings me like dat."

"Then go blows you popscockle in you room, or somewhere else privates."

"Pfft." Skwisgaar rolled his eyes. "Dat am de oldest jokes in de book. I cans eat a popscockle on a hots day in my kitchen if I feels like it. Ams a free countries."

"Whatsever." Determined not to feed Skwisgaar's ego, Toki focused on his Metal-O's. The marshmallow bits disintegrated at the edges, colours bleeding into the milk. He cursed inwardly when, upon glancing back up, the blond caught him. This time, even with the reddening of Toki's ears, Skwisgaar said nothing.

Quickly as he could, Toki finished eating and left the room. While he possessed enough self-control to feign disinterest in the older man's company, he grew uncomfortable in the corridor as his jeans tightened in the worse way. Stupid Skwisgaar. How was Toki supposed to think about anything else? He hated himself for falling into such a trap. How long could the silence hold? Did Skwisgaar simply enjoy inciting such reaction in a man, proving to himself that his attractiveness extended beyond female notice?

 _Stupid tease,_  Toki thought as he flopped down on his bed. Before relieving the denim's pressure, he put some headphones on and scrolled through his phone for a suitable soundtrack. He still couldn't jack off if the klokateers passed by in the hallway; it reminded him too acutely of attempting this back home in Norway and receiving some of his deepest wounds for the resultant crusty spots discovered on laundry day. Forgetting that now as he and Skwisgaar's harmonizing guitar work wrapped around him, Toki closed his eyes and pictured as clearly as he could those lips working over the summer treat.

Taking his time invested Toki further into the music. More than hear it, he could  _see_  how Skwisgaar's fingers flew over the frets to effortlessly find the correct position. Their concerts provided further appreciation of the Swede's sexual energy; being so close on stage allowed Toki a close-up of his gone expression and furrowed brow. Sometimes, when Skwisgaar flicked his hair back, Toki caught mental sight of the blond naked, straddling his hips, riding him for all his puny leg muscles and slim hips were worth. Skwisgaar had the upper hand in the band, always demeaning Toki for his lesser skill level, but if this stupid tension  _ever_  slipped between them—

Spell broken, Toki gasped and pulled the blanket over his waist when his headphones were pulled off. Despite the nature of his thoughts, still pounding away in unsatisfied flesh, all he could do was gape as his cheeks burned. Oh God, how much had he  _seen?_  "What the fuck's you doing here? Gets out!"

"I tries knocking and you don'ts answer." Music still playing, Skwisgaar tossed the headphones onto the bedside table. Then, he smirked. "Did someones have a big  _stressfuls day?_ "

"F-fucks off!"

"Why, so you cans finish up? Ams dat de plan?"

Toki's tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. Heart pounding, he didn't resist as the Swede peeled back the blanket. He did, however, grab his wrist when reached for. "You's just gonna make funs of me to everyone else. You's just gonna calls me gay."

"Stupids Toki, take it for what it ams, ja?" The other man rolled his eyes again. "Makes youself useful and holds my hair."

Not until blond strands tangled throughout his clenched fist did it really sink in for Toki that this surpassed the little fantasy he weaved. It wasn't some random blonde lady contrasting hot flesh to a still-cold mouth between his legs. The taboo divide that separated innuendo from possibility shattered. For a moment or two, as Toki adjusted to the reality that  _Skwisgaar Skwigelf_  sucked him off, he couldn't even comprehend the Swede's work. Then, as shock waned, skill refocused Toki to the centre of his body. Pillows still tinged with red. Hollow cheeks interrupted by his cock's profile in perfect synchronicity to Skwisgaar's bobbing head. Talented hands stroking his shaft, cupping his balls, occasionally pressing into the sensitive area below them. That mischievous and smug gaze, when Skwisgaar's eyelashes flicked up against his brow and deep blue forced Toki's head back. . .

Pooling heat in Toki's lower stomach weighed Toki's hand against the back of Skwisgaar's head. Although he probably should've earned chastisement, it didn't come. Concentration culminated with an arrow of release, sending a tremble all through Toki's body. A whole new need arose. To the satisfaction of his overwhelmed mind, Skwisgaar's throat worked it down. Okay, the blond had  _definitely_ done this before. Not that Toki couldn't tell right from the get-go.

Plopping down on the end of Toki's bed, Skwisgaar finger-combed his unruly hair. He pushed out swollen lips when he came to a particularly nasty knot. "Wells?"

Toki pulled his blanket back over his waist. Okay. Now that everything was over, reality  _really_  began to sink in. "I don'ts know what to say."

"You likes it," Skwisgaar observed.

"Uhhh. . ." Toki's eyes widened when the Swede toyed with his belt. "Whats you doing?"

"I does you, you does me. Commons courtesy, ja?"

"I don'ts recalls a discussions where I agree to that."

Skwisgaar's hands stalled. "You's going to, amn'ts you?"

"I don'ts feel like it no mores. I's all done." Toki tensed the muscles in his face against laughing when the blond abruptly stood, fire in his eyes.

"Dat amn'ts fairs!" Skwisgaar jabbed a finger at him. "You can'ts do dat!"

"Whats you gonna do,  _makes_  me?"

With a cry of frustration and anger, all the frames on Toki's walls shifted as the Swede stormed out. A wide smile immediately spread across the Norwegian's face. Limp as a noodle and lazy in the aftermath, he pulled his headphones back on and laced his fingers behind his head.


End file.
